


Leather Bound Grimmons Tales

by Agent_Fluff



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Compilation, M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:50:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Fluff/pseuds/Agent_Fluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One great big compilation of everything Grimmons that I've ever wrote. Always Grimmons, sometimes side relationships will be mentioned, sometimes other characters will be mentioned too.</p><p>Each chapter is a different story. Some connect to each other, some don't. Every chapter will have warnings and a synopsis in the chapter notes.</p><p>Got a Grimmons prompt? Send it to me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like I'd Choose the Law of Physics Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Like I'd choose the law of physics over you."

Simmons sat hunched over his physics paper at his desk, mindlessly churning out calculation after calculation. Normally, Grif wouldn’t mind the quietness between him as he let Simmons’ do his thing, but he was bored out of his mind.

 

He couldn’t turn on the television or else Simmons would yell at him, and not in their usual banter way, and his phone died, so he was left to his own entertainment. A more…devious, entertainment. One he’d been waiting to try out for a while now.

 

Grif walked up behind Simmons and pulled his chair away from his desk with a swift motion, pulling a surprised yelp from the other man in his surprise. Perfect.

 

“What the hell, Grif?!” Simmons sputtered, walking a line between angry and surprised that made his voice waver.

 

Grif smiled at that. He loved the way he could make Simmons come undone, in more ways than one.

 

He perched himself on Simmons’ lap and circled his arms around his neck, pulling him in close enough to see those freckles of his stand out against the blush rising in his cheeks. Grif shifted slightly, bouncing in Simmons’ lap just enough to get a reaction.

 

“I’m bored, Simmons.” He drawled, curling his fingers into Simmons’ back.

 

“Find something to do then and let me finish this damn assignment. You know how s-strict Sarge i-is.” Simmons stuttered.

 

“I was thinking of doing you.” Grif growled, pulling Simmons’ in all the way for a hard kiss that Simmons’ was gasping into, allowing Grif in on instinct. He counted Simmons’ teeth with his tongue, swallowing all the moans Simmons was letting loose into him. He never wanted those sounds to stop if could help it.

 

Grif pulled away, biting Simmons’ lip for good measure. Simmons’ was following him, trying to instigate another kiss. He even gripped Grif’s hips to keep him in place. Damn, Simmons’ really knew how to pull him in for more, but he had a game to play, and he was determined to win.

 

“I thought all you wanted to do was finish your homework.” Grif whispered, licking the outer shell of Simmons’ ear.

 

Simmons grabbed a fistful of Grif’s hair and pulled him at an angle to attack his neck. He sucked open mouthed kisses up and down the exposed flesh and nipped at his jawline when he’d made a perfect line from the collar of Grif’s shirt up.

 

“Like I’d choose the laws of physics over you.” Simmons smirked against his skin, and Grif let out a low moan of his own.

 

Yeah, he was pretty sure he won his game.


	2. I Missed You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "God I missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during S8. Covers the, you guessed it, cliff scene

He’s falling.

 

He doesn’t realize it at first, didn’t register the hand wrapped around his ankle until it was too late.

 

Couldn’t process anything fast enough to try to reach for traction.

 

All he knew was he was going to go over the edge any second now. He couldn’t see anything except that maroon armor.

 

_Simmons._

 

He’d called for him, desperately trying to get his best friend to his aid fast enough.

 

He’d reached out for him, grabbed his hand and held on with all he could. He put everything he had into trusting Simmons. The momentum of the Warthog being pulled over the edge along with the Meta’s unrelenting grip was too much, and he’d slipped through Simmons’ fingers.

 

Now, he’s falling.

 

He’s watching the cliff’s edge disappear from his sight, watching  _Simmons_ disappear from his sight. He’d always thought movies were lying about how the moment before your death everything seemed to slow down, but he knows better now. He knows the truth about it, even made peace with it. 

 

Not everybody makes it back alive.

 

Then, he sees it. He spots the weapon that the Meta had totted around with him and eyes the blade on the edge. It’s still sharp, probably freshly sharpened by Washington.

 

It’s small, but it’s enough to give him hope. Enough to fight back one more time.

 

He thrusts the blade into the mountain side and hangs on for dear life, praying that he’d make it back to see Simmons’. Praying just to see another  _day_.

 

Simmons’ is the one that pulls him back up off the cliff side. Sarge is muttering something about how the universe is cruel, and for once, Grif agrees with him. Simmons pulls him into a hug, and he can hear him crying through his helmet.

 

“God, I missed you.”

 

He squeezed Simmons tighter, accidentally bumping helmets together, but neither of them cared. Grif had almost died, and he needed to be their for Simmons. With Simmons. He knew Simmons didn’t have the courage to say what he’d really meant.

 

And the truth of the matter was, he’d missed Simmons too.


	3. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I feel like I'm losing control."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kai is in this chapter! Major warning for suicide attempt. Canon compliant.

Kai’s condition wasn’t getting any better. She was still perched on the bed, chest rising slowly as the machines around her whirred to keep her alive. Grif watched his younger sister lay motionless. He didn’t want to see her like this again. _If_  he got to see her again.

 

Simmons paced a firm hand on Grif’s shoulder, and he melted into the steady touch. He needed the grounding to reality right now.

 

“It’s not your fault, Grif.” Simmons whispered, moving his hand from Grif’s shoulder to rub small, soothing circles into his back. Grif knew it wasn’t his fault. He knew, but it still felt like it was his fault. Kai was under his watch, and he wasn’t there to stop her from swallowing that bottle of pills. He was losing the last bit of family he still had left.

 

“I feel like I’m losing control.” Grif muttered. He kept his eyes on Kai as a doctor walked in, a sad look on her face.

 

“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened, Mr. and Mr. Grif. It’s up to her whether or not she wakes.”

 

Simmons pulled Grif into a full hug, squeezing the life out of him, and for once, he let go. He let go all the stress and anger and sadness from today and let it out in streams down his face. He was grateful to have his husband there with him. He’d let Kai slip through his fingers, and he wasn’t going to let Dick go. _Ever_.


	4. Something Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Grif and Simmons have been friends since they were small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guest staring Simmons' mom and told from her perspective!

They met for the first time in elementary school. Simmons was a loner and his mother was worried about him, so she’d done what any concerned mother would’ve done: she arranged a sleepover with the neighbor that’s her son’s age. She watched them while they played video games and ate snacks, knowing deep down in her heart that these two were going to be something special.

 

Middle school took the hardest toll on her. She cried as she watched the two boys walk away from the driveway, trying to avoid waving back to her. Simmons had turned around last minute and waved back. He moved closer to Grif when he thought his parents wouldn’t see him. Simmons’ mom only cried harder, drowning out the sounds of disapproval from her husband.

 

Grif had asked her baby boy to the eighth grade dance. She drove them there along with Grif’s mother, the two boys looking out separate windows. They’d both stressed that this was a platonic date to get the couple’s ticket prices, but she knew. She knew they both wanted more, but didn’t have the courage to speak.

 

The first day of high school was a rush. Simmons was gone faster than his mom could’ve changed clothes. She watched him from the kitchen as he waited at the end of the driveway for Grif to pass by, like he always did. Grif started coming over more often, convincing Simmons to let loose a little bit and play some games instead of reread his homework for the fifth time.

 

The disappearance of her husband took the largest toll on Simmons. He would never say anything about it, but she knew. A mother always knows.

 

He’d walk past your now too big master room and his face would fall. Sometimes she’d catch him crying with his old stuff in his hands. Once she’d found the broken bathroom mirror and the blood on Simmons’ hands, his mother called Grif. He’d sat with Simmons in the living room and intertwined their hands together. She knew he was saying something to him, but it wasn’t meant for her to hear, so she didn’t try to figure out what it was.

 

College was what Simmons had looked forward to. He wanted to leave, get a fresh start. He’d fought hard with Grif about what he wanted to do. Simmons’ mother could tell that Grif was hurt by Simmons’ choice of words, but he didn’t know. She’d watched Grif storm out in tears, slamming the door behind him.

 

They’d broken up.

 

Simmons decided to enlist in the military while Grif had been accepted to Harvard. She’d cried herself to sleep that night.

 

Both her boys had returned after two years. Grif had dropped out to take care of his sister, and Simmons’ mother offered them the chance to stay with her. They’d declined at first, but moved in within a month. She watched Grif and Simmons dance awkwardly around each other for months trying to avoid what happened between them.

 

December was healing. She watched Grif and Simmons curl around each other in front of the fireplace with Kai sleeping next to them. Simmons’ mom had never believed in Christmas miracles, but that might have just been one.

 

Now she’s standing in her family’s cabin, spewing some staged nonsense about filming their trip for memories. She’s filming both her boys standing near the fireplace, Grif with a small box behind his back. They’d been through so much, she almost thought the world was stacked against them. 

 

It’s all worth it when Grif smiles softly, taking Simmons’ hand in his own and dropping down to one knee.

 

She knew he was going to ask, he’d asked her for Simmons’ hand, but it doesn’t stop the tears from streaming down. Grif was everything to Simmons.

 

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Simmons. I wanted to do this right. I asked your mom for your hand.”

 

He stops there, opening the ring box and showing it to her son.

 

“But she’s not the only one I asked. I found him, Simmons. I talked to your dad.”

 

Simmons is sobbing loudly now, and his mother wants to comfort him, but knows better. She knows that Grif’s going to envelope him in a hug and kiss as soon as he’s done speaking.

 

“Go pick out that white dress I know you’ve been dreaming about since high school.”

 

She watches as Simmons chokes out a sort of reply and pulls Grif in to him.

 

Yeah, they were going to be something special.


	5. Are You Sure This Will Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Are you sure this will work?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College roommate AU, based off that one tumblr prompt that appears every 84 years

Simmons sat perched in front of his laptop staring blankly at his now empty word document. He’d been working for hours finishing up the final stretch of his thesis paper, only for his laptop to crash and have the document disappear from his hard drive. Life couldn’t get any worse for him at this point.

 

Simmons groaned as the front door was thrown open and watched Grif stumble in late, as per freaking usual.

 

“What’s up, kiss ass?” Grif smiled, locking the door behind him.

 

“You’re late again.” He replied curtly. On the list of things Simmons had to deal with at the moment, Grif’s tardiness was not one he wanted on it for long.

 

“What crawled up your ass?” Grif scoffed, swiftly snaking his way through the kitchen and into their living room with an armful of snacks.

 

“I can’t keep staying up waiting for you.” Simmons huffed, typing out a sentence and erasing it once more.

 

“What are you, my mother?”

 

He glared at his chubby roommate briefly, turning back to the computer after he felt his point had been made.

 

“What are you working on, cockbite?” Grif pestered, peering over Simmons’ shoulder. He slammed the computer shut and rubbed his temples. God, why did Grif seem to get eight times more unbearable when he was tired?

 

“I’m working on my thesis paper.” Simmons finally sighed out, relaxing into the cushions of the couch as he placed his laptop on their coffee table.

 

“I thought you had that thing finished last week.”

 

Simmons shook his head. “It was mostly done, but I still had some stuff to finish, which is what I was doing until my laptop crashed and now not only is my paper gone, but I have to rewrite everything by 8am tomorrow and I can barely stay awake.”

 

Grif watched him carefully, eyes darting between the blank document and Simmons’ forming under-eye bags. “How tired are you?” He asked bluntly, moving the food he’d gathered off his lap so he could sit up.

 

“Very.” Simmons replied, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and fighting off a yawn in the process. Very was an understatement.

 

“How important is this paper?”

 

“Half my grade.” Simmons supplied weakly, still unsure why his roommate was bombarding him with these questions. Whatever Grif had in store was  _not_  going to be good for him, but at this point he’d take any miracle wherever it came from.

 

Grif nodded and made his way to the kitchen, pulling out what appeared to be coffee mix. Simmons laugh, relief immediately flushing his system. He was only going to make coffee, not some convoluted “home recipe” for working like last time.

 

“I don’t know what coffee’s gonna do for me, I’m beyond the need for it.” Simmons called, pulling the laptop onto his lap again.

 

Grif stopped his work in the kitchen and glared at him over the counter. “Do you want my help or not?”

 

Simmons sighed. “I’m out of options, so I guess.”

 

Grif nodded and got the coffee machine set-up to brew, but didn’t fill the pot up with water. Instead, he pulled out a six-pack of Monster energy drinks and dumped a full can in. He shoved the pot back into the machine and turned it on, pulling out what appeared to be a bottle of caffeine pills from the drawer. Simmons watched as he ground those into a fine powder and threw them into the only clean pot they had. Grif poured the resulting Monster-coffee abomination into the pot and set that on the stove.

 

“Grif, what the fuck are you doing?” He squealed, a putrid almost chemical like smell permeating the apartment.

 

“I  _said_  I’d help and that’s what I’m  _doing_.” Grif answered curtly, throwing the last of the ground caffeine pills into the monstrosity currently boiling on their stove. He threw in the last of Simmons’ five hour energy packet and turned the stove off, pouring the sludge into Simmons’ good mug.

 

He’d kill Grif for that tomorrow when he got his energy back.

 

Grif bought the steaming mug over to him and placed a few packets of sugar, honey, and another can of Monster next to it. “You can choose what sweetener you want.” He remarked with a smirk, flopping back down onto the couch next to Simmons.

 

Simmons stared at the disgusting concoction set before him. It smelled god awful and probably tasted even worse.

 

“Are you sure this will work?” He asked tentatively, looking to Grif for his reaction.

 

“Just drink the damn thing, Simmons.”

 

He looked back at the mug. It was gross, but what other choice did he have?

 

Simmons grabbed the packets of sugar and ripped them open with his teeth, pouring them into the mug. He watched the small white pellets melt into the sludge before picking it up.

 

“I hope this works, Grif.”

 

He took a large sip of the concoction, fighting back the urge to puke it back out. Four more gulps in, and he felt different. His heart started beating faster and faster. Grif gave Simmons a shit eating grin as he started typing his paper faster than he could process.

 

Simmons typed and typed, barely registering his fingers dancing across his keyboard before eventually his paper was done and he was prancing around the living room singing off-key Broadway songs. Grif eventually threw him over his shoulder and toted him off to bed when he started having an argument with the blinds in French. He doesn’t remember much after that.


End file.
